The moment when you tried to tell a funny story but then it turned into a lecture.
To this day, you start telling your parents a funny story but then remember what happened was kinda frowned upon so it gets awkward.
Anything remotely sexual coming on TV would lead to a mild panic attack. And instantly changing the channel.
Yep, even if you were watching something where the characters might kiss.
The pure, unadulterated panic you would experience when you forgot the time and realized you were supposed to be home already.
You then turned into an olympic gold medal runner, 0 to 100 real quick.
Manners were everything. It was always, "Do you do this at other people’s houses?" And “Watch out for the people behind you!”
To this day, you still have mini panic attacks while trying to put the change you get back into your wallet before it’s the next guy’s turn in line.
You never had “The Talk” with your parents.
Which definitely left you like, 100x more curious.
One missed phone call would leave your parents to assume you’re smoking the marijuana.
You never cursed until you got to college.
Rebellion for you consisted of dreaming of the day you would wear flip flops to the airport and go out on both Friday and Saturday night.
The feeling you got when you asked to stay over somewhere but your mom was all like “let me talk to their parents.”
You then learned to be a ninja and planned things strategically. This involved only asking your parents for anything when they were in a good mood and practicing asking for permission to do something in the mirror,
...You would come up with all the answers to questions you knew they’d ask. Including your friend's social security number and a detailed presentation of her family tree.
The feeling of always sharing the same first name as at least 4-5 other people wherever you go.
The holy grail was when your friends would make plans for later that night, and your parents actually said yes. This happened maybe one time.
To this day, you still can’t get dressed without the anxiety of picturing your parent giving you that look.
Your middle and high school years can be summed up as an 8 year war over whether that shirt was too low cut or if the words on your Abercrombie shirt were too suggestive.
If your teacher called your parents, hell would freeze over. You would say a little prayer but knew inside they were about to turn into the lochness monster.
You lied constantly. About everything. You still do.